


Interlude on a Country Road ~ A Love Story

by earthspirits



Series: The Travels of Mad Sweeney & Laura Moon [1]
Category: American Gods (TV), American Gods - Neil Gaiman
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergen, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, American Gods (TV) - Freeform, American Gods - Freeform, Ancient Celts, Angst, Baron Samedi - Freeform, Battle, Celtic Myth - Freeform, Character Death, Colonial America, Dangerous men, Death of a loved one, Declarations Of Love, Eighteenth Century, Essie McGowan, F/M, Falling In Love, Guilt, Heartbreak, Hope, Horror, Ireland, Laura McCabe Moon - Freeform, Laura Moon - Freeform, Love at First Sight, Loving Marriage, Mad Sweeney - Freeform, Madwife relationship, Magic, Marriage, Medieval Ireland, Mr. Wednesday - Freeform, Mythological References, Odin - Freeform, Original Character - Freeform, Original Female Character - Freeform, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Protectiveness, Redemption, References to Character Death, Reincarnation, Reincarnational lovers, Resurrection, Road Trip, Romance, Sexual Situations, Sexual Tension, Soul Bond, Soulmates, Star-crossed, Star-crossed love, The Old Gods - Freeform, Tragic Romance, True Love, Violence, Violent Death, Voodoo, adversarial lovers, adversarial relationship, ancient Ireland, ancient warfare, bad boy, consensual sex / lovemaking, dead wife, death and the grieving process, death in battle, gaelic, hopeful love, karmic love, leprechaun - Freeform, love with a dangerous man, mad sweeney x laura moon, mad wife, madwife, madwife true love, magical spells, redeemed bad boy, references to violence, reincarnated lovers, soul searching, soulmate love, soulmate marriage, star-crossed lovers, survivor syndrome, the living dead, true love marriage, true love with a bad boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 03:33:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18421953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earthspirits/pseuds/earthspirits
Summary: Mad Sweeney remembers the past - and the one woman he has always loved throughout his long and tumultuous life.Please Note: The stories in my AU Sweeney and Laura series are all connected, and designed to be read in order.





	Interlude on a Country Road ~ A Love Story

**Author's Note:**

> SPOILERS: Contains S1 and S2 spoilers (please note that my story is set shortly after AG S2 episode "The Ways of the Dead").
> 
> Ratings / Warnings: Mature 18+ - Sexual situations, strong language, references to past character deaths, violence, gore.  
> Please note that some of this may possibly be triggering.

He had finally caught up to Laura Moon in the next state, and it had taken all his considerable powers of persuasion (as well as a storm of cuss words) to talk her into allowing him to accompany her. And here they were - stranded yet again, in another broken down (stolen) car, on yet another lonely country road. The late afternoon sun shone down on the cracked asphalt, and on the vast green fields that stretched along either side of the road. In the distance, he could see a line of trees, their branches hazy with budding new leaves. The spring vegetation was vivid, reminding him of the old country, and home.

Laura climbed out of the battered sedan, and slammed the door. "What the fuck," she growled. "Can't you ever steal a car that isn't about to break down or get a flat?"

Sweeney suppressed a grin. Ah, Laura was such a feisty lass, and he wouldn't have it any other way. He shrugged. "I do what I can, Dead Wife. It's not as if I can put in a special request to the gods to only thieve us a fancy limousine."

Scowling, she turned away, and stared moodily at the surrounding countryside. "What now?"

"There's a spare in the trunk, so I change the tire," he replied. "Not the first time either, is it?"

"Shall I lift this clunker up for you?"

The big Irishman shook his head. "Not necessary, lass. Just relax, and we'll soon be on our way."

Laura crossed her arms over her chest, and strolled across the road. There was a splintery wooden fence edging the field, and she leaned against it, her back to her traveling companion.

As Sweeney opened the trunk, he glanced at her. She had made it painfully clear that she believed their lovemaking in New Orleans to be the result of Baron Samedi's spell - or some sort of con, performed at the command of Wednesday. But she was wrong - dead wrong. He chuckled grimly at the pun, and the irony. No, what he felt for Laura McCabe Moon was something quite different, and he hadn't really needed the spell to reveal this truth to him. He'd known it ever since he had first seen her face, stark and lifeless in the moonlight, her broken body sprawled on that deserted country road. And in that tragic moment, overcome by remorse and despair, he had recognized her for who she truly was. His mouth tightened. He'd be damned if he'd lose her again.

_****_

Medieval Ireland - 6th Century

The chamber was shadowy, lit only by the pale moonlight that streamed through two narrow lancet windows. The floor was strewn with fragrant rushes and herbs, the gray stone walls softened by tapestries. The only furniture was a small round table and two chairs, and an immense bed, pushed against the far wall. It was heaped with embroidered cushions and thick quilts, and at its foot was a carved wooden chest. A tall redheaded man was stretched atop the bed, which sagged beneath his muscular nude form. He was leaning on one elbow, his hazel eyes shining in the darkness. "About time you came to bed, beloved," he said, extending a hand to the young woman who had just entered the room.

"Did you miss me then?" she asked playfully. She was tiny, a mere slip of a girl, but for all that, there was something commanding about her presence. She tilted her head, and stared at him, her full lips curved in a mischievous smile.

"You know I always do." Suibhne mac Colmain, King of Northern Eire, leaned forward, and with one swift motion, pulled his Queen into his brawny arms. He bent his head, pressing his lips passionately against hers. "My lovely sweet Ciara." Brushing aside her long brown hair, he trailed kisses down the angle of her jaw, and along her slender throat.

Ciara sighed happily, and untied the laces of her linen chemise, revealing her small pale breasts and slightly protruding belly - the tell tale sign of her early pregnancy. Pressing herself against him, she slid her hand downward, wrapping her fingers around his rising shaft. Slowly, she stroked and kneaded him, until he was half out of his mind with desire. After a few moments, she crawled up his body, and straddled him. Gazing into his eyes, she swept aside her skirts, and suddenly pushed down, impaling herself on the velvet hardness of his cock. He groaned, and began to move, his thrusts at first gentle, but soon deepening to a fierce steady rhythm that she matched with wild movements of her own. As they rode the wave of their pleasure to a shattering climax, their voices rose, his deep baritone mingling with her ecstatic contralto.

Afterward, they lay in each other's arms, their bodies slick with the sweat of their lovemaking. Ciara shifted, so that she could look up into his bearded face. "Promise me," she urged. "Promise me, my love, that you'll be careful - Please, take no undue risks in tomorrow's battle."

"Aye, lass, I promise." 

She nodded, and snuggled against him. He could feel the reassuring beat of her heart against his. Soon, Ciara had fallen asleep, but he stared into the darkness, unable to slumber, thinking about the battle to come. He glanced down, studying her peaceful features, as if to memorize them. Their people believed in rebirth, and he knew, if tomorrow death claimed him, that eventually the two of them would find each other again, albeit in some future life. But he was in no hurry for his next incarnation - he was enjoying this one too damned much to give it up, just yet. And more importantly, he had no wish to ever be parted from Ciara - he prayed they would live a long happy life together, along with their child. He kissed the top of her head. "I love you," he whispered. "I'll always love you."

_****_

Suibhne mac Colmain held his wife in his arms, tears streaming down his cheeks. What horrific irony, he thought bitterly - that he had survived the battle, only for his beloved to be struck down by their enemies. They had attacked at dawn, while he and his forces had been miles away, fighting the main bulk of the enemy army. He had returned to find his castle and the adjacent villages in smoldering ruins. Ciara and the soldiers who had stayed behind to protect their lands had been hopelessly out-numbered - everyone, military and civilian alike, had been slaughtered, and his Queen was dying. Blood trickled from that wide mouth he had so often kissed, and stained her leather cuirass and green woolen gown. On the trampled ground, her bloodied sword lay abandoned, along with the bodies of two attackers she had slain. "Ciara," he murmured helplessly. 

She reached out and gently caressed the side of his face. "Suibhne - You came back to me."

As he leaned down and kissed her, she gave a little sigh, and her eyes fluttered close - She was gone. Suibhne howled his agony, and holding her precious body close, rocked back and forth in his grief. He glared up at the cloudy sky, and his expression hardened. "I curse you!" he shouted. "All of you cruel and uncaring gods! You destroyed my people and my family - They were innocent, yet you allowed them all to be murdered!" He kissed her still warm cheek, and let out another sob. "All Ciara's sweet goodness, all her kindness and piety and bravery did nothing to sway your cold hearts. Damn you all to hell - May someday you fall, and be ground into the dust, and forgotten." 

And in his unending grief, the once mighty ruler wandered the devastated countryside of his kingdom, driven mad by sorrow. And so it was that the gods cursed him to eternal life.

  
_****_

America - Colonial Virginia - 18th Century

He gazed into her face, grown old and worn, but still infinitely beautiful to him. This time around she was called Essie McGowan, but no matter the name or era, she was always the darling of his heart. She had made a good life for herself, her children and grandchildren, doing so with consummate wit and courage, while never losing her sense of wonder, or reverence for the mystical. Sweeney remembered that long ago day in Ireland, when a young Essie had first summoned him, and he had answered, offering her the blessings and protection of a demigod. In this incarnation, they had never been intimate, had not even kissed - perhaps yet another of the punishments of his curse. But his love for her was still as strong and abiding as it had been in their first life together, when they had been royal husband and wife. And for her sake, he had followed her to this strange new land. 

But now it was time. To ensure his beloved's safe passage to the next world, he had come to personally escort her soul to the light. "Will you take my hand, Essie McGowan?" he asked softly.

Trustingly, Essie smiled, and placed her hand in his. As she rose from her chair, their eyes met. His were deep and dark as the night sky, luminous with unspoken love. Recognition suddenly flared. "Suibhne," she breathed wonderingly.

"Aye, lass," and he drew her close. It was as if she had stepped out of a discarded gown. Youthful again, she sparkled with joy, as hand in hand, the two of them crossed into eternity.

_****_

Sweeney wiped his greasy hands on his jeans, and with a sigh, stretched the aching muscles of his back. The damned spare was in place, and the two of them could continue their journey - although he hoped they would soon find a motel to spend the night at. He was exhausted, and feeling peckish to boot. "All done," he called out, watching Laura walk towards him. He thought briefly of what he sometimes called her - Dead Wife - and grew somber. How little she suspected that the epithet was more apt in regards to the pair of them, than she would ever know. But something had certainly changed - while still technically dead, she looked entirely alive - her skin smooth, unmarred and glowing, all autopsy scars vanished, her eyes bright, her hair smooth and silky. During their recent sexual interlude, she had been warm with life, her scent sweet and fresh as wildflowers. Perhaps the Baron's spell had worked after all - at least to some extent. But the Irishman knew they still needed a hell of a lot more magic to fully resurrect her. Where, when, or how this would occur, he hadn't a clue, but he would do all in his power to save her. And the gods be damned.

As Laura climbed into the driver's seat, she grinned crookedly at him, and turned the key in the ignition. The engine sputtered for a moment, and then turned over. "Thanks, Sweeney," she muttered, and as the car headed down the road, he felt his spirits lift. Perhaps, this time around, they would finally find a way to make a life together. 

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Obviously American Gods, and its characters belong to Neil Gaiman, and also to the respective creators / writers of the television series based upon the book, and to Starz network. I'm just a devoted fan playing in their sandbox, and make no profit, etc. Please note that any original characters or concepts I've created belong to me.


End file.
